


Addicting Amir

by orphan_account, Pavloving



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pavloving/pseuds/Pavloving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick have been completely in love with eachother from the first night they met at a concert, but when Pete fucks up and old faces show up, how much can their relationship really manage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 Patrick's lips were just barely touching the rim of his glass of cheap whiskey. Usually he wouldn't dare touch a glass of booze so poorly served in a soap scum stained glass, but today he couldn't find it in himself to give a fuck.

 The scene was replaying in his head; play, fast forward, rewind, pause. Nothing was the same anymore. He should be at home right now. Pressed against Pete's chest and feeling the man's heartbeat against his back. He should be kissing Pete's fingers as he gets sweet nothings whispered in his ear by the only man he thought he could trust with life.

  _Im sorry._  Heard the words being said over and over again.  _Baby, I love you. She means nothing to me. It was just a mistake. I love you. I love you. I love you._

 The words rang in his ears like a church bell, but the sight of him and  _her._ In  _their_ bed. The bed they'd been sharing since Patrick was nineteen. The bed Patrick lost his virginity in. The image made tears threaten to spill over his cheeks but Patrick called for another glass of cheap whiskey before he could let his mind wander farther. Too late. 

 His senior year of high school, he had snuck out and went to see some heavy rock band no one had ever heard of. It consisted of rebellious, tattooed teenagers with too much alcohol in their systems and too many piercings on their faces. Patrick usually didn't interact with them. Just sat back and sipped on his diet Mountain Dew and watched as a mosh pit formed in the heart of the crowd.

 By the time the band played a few more songs and the bass player screamed a few unrehearsed verses into the microphone, it was almost 2 in the morning. The band made their way off stage to talk to their friends, except for the bass player, who confidently strode towards Patrick. 

 They could not be more opposite if they tried. Patrick was wearing a checkered sweater vest, khaki shorts, and running shoes, while the man before him sported no shirt, tattoos, skin glossed over with perspiration, orange converse, and jeans hanging so low Patrick could see his V line.

 The man didn't even bother to introduce himself.

 "What's a kid like you doing at a place like this?" The man asked, obviously noticing how out of place Patrick was.

 Patrick shrugged and sipped his drink hoping it would mask how nervous the man made him. 

 "What's your name?"  The man tried again.

 "Patrick," He replied as confidently as he could muster.

 "Pete," He said, holding out his hand. "This your first time at a place like this?" He continued.

 "No, I've been here a few times with friends, but it's my first time coming alone."

 Pete nodded, but Patrick knew he was just making polite conversation.

 "How old are you anyway? Shouldn't you be at home with your boyfriend?" 

 Apparently small talk wasn't this man's strong suit. Pete was obviously trying to get Patrick to tell him about his sexuality. 

 "If I had one," Patrick replied bluntly. He had long since stopped trying to hide his sexual preferences from anyone who asked. If they accepted him that was great. If they didn't Patrick couldn't care less. 

 Pete smirked. 

 "You got a ride home?" 

 Patrick shook his head. It wasn't a lie, he really didn't have a ride. He walked the three blocks from his house, but Pete didn't need to know that.

 "You want one?" Pete stepped forward until he almost feel Patrick's icy breath on his thorn necklace tattoo.

 If he was honest, Patrick was as curious about the man with smudged eye liner and chipped black nail polish as the man seemed to be about him. 

 Patrick nodded and once he did, Pete grabbed his hand and half dragged him to his 1997 Plymouth Neon. It was exactly the kind of car Patrick expected a man with The Night Before Christmas tattoos to own. 

 The last time Patrick was in a car alone with a guy he thought was flirting with him he ended up almost losing his virginity. The same old cliche scene. A man by the name of Gerard Way grabbed his hand in the hallway in front of all his bullies after getting pushed over and stepped on by a few seniors. Patrick was a sophomore at the time so getting his hand held by an upperclassmen was sure to make him swoon. 

 Gerard gave Patrick a silent ride home after being publicly humiliated, but instead of going home, drove to a lake about ten miles east of his home. Patrick wasn't going to admit he was hoping it would happen, but he didn't stop what happened next.

 Without saying a word, only grabbing Patrick's face in both his hands and bringing him close, Gerard Way pressed gentle kisses onto Patrick's lips. 

 He kissed back without hesitation which fueled Gerard to unbuckle his seatbelt and straddle Patrick's lap, making sure to press their hips together. 

 The kissing became more intense. Going from gentle pecks to passionate tongue war. Gerard's hands travelled from Patrick's face down to his hips and to the inside of his shirt and as he felt his way up Patrick's torso Gerard felt his dick turn hard. Gerard stopped the kiss long enough to catch Patrick's drunken gaze and chuckle. 

 "You up for it?" Gerard asked, motioning to his crotch.

 Patrick hesitated this time. He was only fifteen, what did he want? A blow job? A hand job? Did he want to take Patrick's virginity right then and there in his parent's Corolla? None of them- especially not the latter- seemed all that appealing. A make out session was one thing, but taking it all the way to intercourse was something Patrick wasn't really ready for.

 He was too flushed to answer, so he just shook his head. Gerard looked disappointed, but only sighed and shifted back over the gear shift into the driver's seat. 

 "I respect that. A man who knows what he wants." Gerard didn't look at him though. Instead, without warning, let his head fall back, his eyes slip closed, and let his hand find its way around his erection. Patrick didn't know whether to look away or watch the man get himself off. Was his actually happening? Was this man actually jerking himself off in the presence of a virgin sophomore?

 Gerard finished with a quiet moan. He opened his eyes again and reached over Patrick's lap into the glove compartment where he grabbed some McDonald's napkins to wipe off the cum from his hands. 

 They drove to Patrick's house in silence. No words were exchanged except for the polite "thanks for the ride" at the end of their time together. Even then, Gerard didn't say anything; just drove off, tires screeching.

 The next day at school Gerard met Patrick at the school's entrance and swung an arm around Patrick's shoulders. 

 "Hey little virgin!" He exclaimed with a little too much excitement in his voice. 

 "Isn't today a lovely day to get fucked?" He continued on as they walked to Patrick's locker near the boys' restroom. 

 "Not that you would know or anything," He laughed again. Patrick clutched his textbook against his chest, a bad feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. 

 "Now, what's that thing you like to do again? Lead guys on and then reject them?" Gerard laughed even louder this time.

 "Well, then you fucking deserve this," That time his voice was menacing. 

 Before Patrick could turn around Gerard's foot kicked into Patrick's back and threw him into his locker. Gerard was screaming things at him and people were staring, but all he could focus on was the blood dripping out of his nose from the impact and the black graffiti on his locker that read "FUCKING FAGGOT." 

 "Hey," Patrick was ripped from his day dream.

 "Hop in whenever you're ready," Pete laughed. Patrick hadn't realize he was still standing at the passenger side door with Pete waiting. Nevertheless he settled in and buckled his seat belt.

 The car ride was pretty quiet except for Elvis Costello dimly playing on a track Pete put in and the occasional "turn left at this light".

 Patrick really had no intention of reliving the most humiliating time of his life with Pete. Even if he was swooning over Pete's intricate tattoos and glossy skin and oh god... 

 "You okay there?" Pete said with a laugh.

 "Yeah," Patrick quickly composed himself. He couldn't let himself fall for a guy he just met. With his luck Pete was just being nice. Although, if Pete did feel something too, Patrick wouldn't protest. Not in the slightest. 

 "You like Elvis Costello, cutie?" Pete said the last part sarcastically and laughed to himself.

 Patrick was sort of taken aback by the pet name Pete seemed to have already given him, but wasn't exactly bothered by it.

 "Love him."

 Pete opened his mouth to say something else when Patrick interjected, "I live here."

 The car came to a slow stop outside a modest house with the porch light flickering, burning out the last bit of life it had left. 

 "Thanks for the ride," Patrick politely said as he opened the car door. 

 "Wait," Pete snagged his elbow and pulled him back until his lips connected with Patrick's cheek. 

 "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 11pm." 

 Pete let go of Patrick's arm and when he stepped out Pete drove off with a smile on his face.

 "Sir! You have to leave." Patrick remembered where he was. In a shitty bar drinking shitty whiskey. 

 He looked at the manager. A woman with blonde, curly hair and dark circles under her eyes. 

 The bar was closing and she was here to kick him out. Patrick didn't care much though, he just made his way to the bar's entrance and let the autumn wind hit him like a bullet. Nothing could really hurt him anymore.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's POV

  Pete's band finished off the last song of the night with screams into the microphone and the lead singer jumping into the crowd. Usually Pete was the one jumping off speakers and smashing his instrument before jumping into the crowd of rioting teenagers, but today was different. There was a certain boy off to the side, excluded from the rest of the crowd. In a normal setting- say, a grocery store or a kid's park- nothing would have especially stuck out about this boy. Right now though, in the sea of tattoos and mohawks, he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

 After handing his bass to his band's unpaid groupie, Pete made his way to the boy with his usual self-reliant stride. 

 Talking to the kid wasn't anything out of the ordinary, it was more the kid's rosy cheeks and disability to hide his nerves that made Pete say what he said next.

 "You got a ride?"

 Pete was silently urging him to say yes. He wanted to talk to the kid, find out more about him. Okay, yeah, they didn't really know eachother, but everyone starts off as strangers, right? 

 When Patrick accepted the offer Pete had to force himself to keep his hands off. Yes, Patrick's lips looked soft and untouched, but he couldn't just force himself onto someone who might as well be as innocent as a child. Especially not if he wanted a chance. 

 Pete didn't realize it at the time, but he pretty much dragged Patrick to his car. Being in a confined space with someone he was so attracted to but not allowed to touch was quite possibly the most difficult thing he's done in a long time. He wanted more than anything to grab his hand while he was driving. Then kiss him good bye on the cheek and make promises to see eachother again tomorrow. But of course that wasn't going to happen. Patrick was distracted. He took a minute or two and stared blankly into space instead of getting into the car. It probably would have taken longer if Pete hadn't snapped him out of it. 

 When they were driving Patrick acted as a GPS and told Pete where to turn. That was basically the only thing they said to eachother until they began talking about music. Damn, even his music taste was good. They both liked Elvis Costello and some heavy bands. It made Pete smile to her Patrick quietly hum the chorus to himself. 

 They were at Patrick's house less than a minute later. Honestly, his home wasn't too shabby. Freshly painted with shutters on every window. It definitely beat the two bedroom one bath apartment Pete shared with two potheads and any rats that could find their way in. 

 "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 11pm," Pete said as he grabbed Patrick's elbow on his way out.

 Patrick didn't say anything, just nodded then quickly made his way around his house. That boy was on Pete's mind the rest of the night.

 But things were different now. Pete fucked up so bad. He had the best boy in the world to grow old with but he threw it all away for a cheap orgasm with a slutty waitress from a diner. Patrick invested all his love into him, all his trust. Patrick trusted him with his deepest secret and Pete did the same. Pete swore he would never hurt Patrick the way Gerard Way did. He would never push him before he was ready or touch him when he didn't want it or make him insecure about his body. He knew Patrick could come home at any time. He'd been gone for days and would eventually have to come back for things like his toothbrush or clothes. 

 Suddenly, the door knob started shaking. When it opened Patrick stood on the other side. Pete immediately stood up.

 "Don't get too excited," He said with so little emotion it made Pete's stomach drop. "I'm only here to pick up a few things.

 "Baby,  _please. Please_ let me explain," Pete pleaded. Patrick only pushed past him though, grabbing a duffel from the hall closet and pushing into their old room. Patrick stopped dead in his tracks. 

 "Explain yourself," He didn't turn around and his voice still had the same stale taste it did when he walked through the door.

 "Baby, she meant nothing to me. It was just a mistake. Please don't let this break what we've had. Everyone makes mistakes, please don't leave me," Pete's voice was as desperate as Patrick has ever heard it. "Patrick,  _please. I love you."_

This made Patrick turn around.  

 He began through gritted teeth as if trying not to start crying just yet, "Every time I look at you all I see is your face when you finished inside her. Every single time I look at that bed all I hear are her moans and her legs wrapped around you as if you belonged inside her,"His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, coming closer. Patrick looped his fingers into the waistband of Pete's black jeans and laid his head on his chest. "Pete, that spot under you, pleasuring you, making  _love_ to you, that was mine. And you gave it away to some random chick who doesn't even care about you," Patrick looked up at him, his eyes glossy and his perfect lips protruding as he cried. "You let her into _our_ bed.  _My_ spot. You let her make you feel immense pleasure. Something I thought was my job and my job only. Tell me how you can fix that."

 Neither of them said anything. 

 "I can't even be in this apartment without thinking about all the passionate kisses we shared on that sofa out there. Those are supposed to be memories I reminisce in. You know the kicker, though? I lost my virginity to you in that bed right there. You know me from the inside out. But you couldn't keep it in your fucking pants long enough for me to get home," Patrick's voice was hard again as he pushed away and wiped a few tears off his face.

 Pete was at a complete loss for his words. What was he going to do? All he _wanted_ to do was lay Patrick down and make love to him, afterwards leaving hickies along his neck as if to claim him. He wanted Patrick to wrap him in his arms and tell him he wasn't mad and that they would get through this. He wanted to not be a complete fuck up.

 "I should probably get going," Patrick finally said.  

 "Angel, please. Please stay."

 He just shook his head and started towards the door but Pete grabbed his hand.

 "You've been gone for three days but it's felt like a year. Please, just stay tonight. Let me take care of you. You can leave tomorrow in the morning, but baby _please._ I  _need_ you."

 The desperation in his voice was back.  Usually Patrick would give in and they would go to bed together. Not this time. Patrick pulled his hand away a little more aggressively than he really had to.

 "You had a _choice_ and you chose  _wrong._ I don't have to stay here and mend your wounded conscience because you have fucked up decision skills." 

 Then he left without another word.  

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's POV

 Pete was running through Patrick's head all night and all day the next day. How had such simple actions that the man hadn't a clue were so making such a big impression on him? Had he left the same impression? Probably not. Patrick believes himself to be quite boring and unimportant, in his eyes more than anyone else's. It would be close to a miracle if he had left any more than a "he seems nice" impression on that boy. He was ready to go by 10:00 although he wasn't even sure Pete remembered that he set this date. Patrick had to admit it though. He was excited. Excited to see Pete's face again, hear his laugh, maybe touch him this time.

 By the time 11pm rolled around Pete was already parked outside Patrick's home. He'd been there since about 10:45, but no one really needed to know that. 

 Pete climbed out of the car and made his way around the house the way he'd seen Patrick do the night before, being extra cautious to make sure no one spotted him. 

 "What are you doing?" Pete heard from behind him.  _Shit._ He prepared a quick lie in his head. _I was cutting through here on my way home. I'm visiting a friend. I'm new to the neighborhood and I'm lost._

But before he could respond the man spoke again, "Didn't you see me waiting on the curb?"

 Pete turned around to find Patrick. This time he sported a Beatles shirt, ripped jeans, and black high-top Converse. He looked hot. Although, in all honestly, Patrick could have shown up in a mascot uniform and Pete would still think he looked perfect. 

 "Um, er, no. Sorry," Pete stuttered blushing subtly and bringing his arm up to scratch the back of his head. "Are you ready to go, though?" He choked out finally.

 "Yeah," Patrick cleared his throat and they turned back towards Pete's car.

 "So, where are we going?" Patrick asked once they entered the car.

 "My place."

 "Oh," 

 "Would you rather go somewhere else?"

 "No, I just.."

 "You just what?'

 "I thought when you said you would pick me up you meant to go out."

 "Like a date?"

 Patrick didn't answer. 

 "Well maybe we could rent a movie and order pizza?"

 "That sounds nice," Patrick said but didn't look away from the window.

 Again, it wasn't a long drive. A mere twenty minute walk from Patrick's house.

 "What time do you have to be home, kid?"

 Patrick hands fidgeted in his pockets, "I actually told my parents I was spending the night at my friend Brendon's house.

 Pete's lips twitched trying not to smirk.  

 "So, you're spending the night?" He strode over towards the phone and dialed the pizza place.

 "Only if that's okay."

 "As long as you don't mind sharing a bed. The couch is gets freezing cold and the other beds are occupied." 

 "No, that's fine," They smiled at eachother as Pete ordered a large pizza with garlic bread sticks. 

 "If you're sleeping over where's your bag?" Patrick blushed. He really didn't think about it. He'd imagined this scenario tons of times in his head but never did it occur to him that he would need a toothbrush and clothes. 

 "I suppose I'll just have to sleep in my underwear," Naive little Patrick was completely oblivious to the fact that that came off as flirting. To him it was just solving a problem. To Pete it was the hottest thing he could imagine.

 "Are you in the mood for a horror?"

 "Sure, I don't care what we watch."

 "Good," Pete winked and smirked, "Do you mind grabbing the wool blanket from the hallway closet?"

 "Sure thing," Patrick started towards the hallways and while he did he heard Pete open the door and receive the pizza. Farther down the hallway he could smell weed and eventually saw it seeping through the crack under the door. Moans followed, making Patrick find the blanket quickly and scuttle back to the kitche. He hoped they would keep quiet enough that he couldn't hear it throughout the movie. 

 Back in the main are Pete was already seated on the couch with the movie ready to play, the lights turned off, and a slice of pizza in his hand. 

 "There you are," He looked back and smiled "Don't be shy, grab yourself a slice and bring that blanket over here. I'm freezing my ass over here."

 Patrick walked over and grabbed slice then proceeded to the sofa. Pete spread the blanket over himself then lifted the corner and patted the seat next to him. 

 "C'mon, keep me warm," He said, then flashed that thousand dollar smile. 

 Patrick sat down- probably closer than he really needed to- and Pete wasted no time in closing the rest of the space between them. 

 While they finished up their pizza and the movie carried on, the moans from down the hall became louder. Patrick's head was nuzzled in Pete's neck and his legs were slung over Pete's. Patrick close his eyes and breathed in Pete's scent trying to block out the sounds. 

 "Sorry about my roommates. They're sort of like wild animals when they're high."

 Patrick shrugged and shifted his head to look up at Pete. He kissed his forehead and when Patrick didn't reject him or turn away, Pete said "I know a way we can get them back."

 Patrick had a confused look on his face so Pete grabbed his hand and walked towards his room. It was the room right next to the one with the moaning twenty year olds in it. Once inside, Pete grabbed Patrick's face in his hands and looked into his eyes. They stayed in that position for a second then Patrick put his hands on Pete's chest and close the space between them. Their lips met and it felt like a frenzy of fireworks. It wasn't awkward like most first kisses. This felt natural. The way their bodies connected like puzzle pieces and their lips moved together as if they already knew what to do. Pete's lips tasted like pizza and coffee. It made him sink deeper into the kiss, the taste of coffee urging him to suck on Pete's bottom lip. Pete started moving the kiss over to the bed. Patrick plopped on the bed, but quickly closed the gap again by pulling Pete in by his shirt. Pete lays on the bed and Patrick straddles his hips, both of them now breathing heavily. Pete puts hands on Patrick's ass and starts to pull them down, but Patrick hesitates and breaks the kiss. 

 "Pete, no. I'm not ready."

 "Shh, it's okay. You're in control here. I won't push you to do anything you're not ready for. I just want to take care of you, sweetie," Pete stroked Patrick's hair as he lay his head on his chest. "Do you want to go to sleep now?" 

 Patrick nodded and removed his shirt then his pants and crawled under the covers. 

 "Do you mind if we just cuddle?" Patrick asked submissively. 

 "Of course," Pete smiled and got in next to him.

 Patrick lays his head on Pete's chest and their legs intertwine into a knot under the covers. Disregarding the fact that he told Pete he didn't want anything sexual a few moments later, Patrick starts to suck on Pete's neck leaving a purple hickie. No one said anything, but they both knew what their relationship was. They knew what they wanted.

 That was the first night Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump spent together.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short I've been working with school a shit ton so yeah, my chapters will be short. I don't know about Ms. Pavloving.

  It was the first night he'd really known what he wanted. What he wanted forever. It wasn't much, only one person. And that person was Patrick Stump. 

  It was practically love at first sight. He knew that he had to have Patrick the moment he saw him. That didn't change on their first "date". After that night, they spent any free time they had together. And over that time, Pete dug himself further and further in love with Patrick. He'd never known how much the boy had loved him until he lost him. 

 That night tore him apart. Well there were two that broke him. The night he made a mistake, and the night Patrick came home. He remembered it every time 6:30 pm rolled around. Only because that was the exact time he opened the door to Patrick's face. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He'd missed him so much. 

But of course, he hadn't seen him since. He basically gave up on contacting him. Pete had left call after call, becoming more desperate after each time he'd gotten the expected voice mail. At least then he was hearing Patrick's voice. Even if it was only a recorded message he heard multiple times a day. His voice growing more desperate each time he called. 

"Patrick  _please_ I'll do anything,  _anything._ I need your in my life. It was a mistake. I'm a mistake, I made a  _mistake. I love you._ Please I'll stop calling, I'll leave you alone. I just need you to know that I love you and I'll never be over you."

Pete set the phone down as he sighed, hands shaking. He didn't expect a call from Patrick. Hell, he'd be surprised if the boy ever even let him see his face again. He left his phone in the kitchen as he went to the big empty bed he could barely stand to be in anymore. Barely could even look at it. Falling asleep that night wasn't easy by any means. He couldn't help thinking about the boy who'd stolen his heart. 

The next day was hard as well. And every day after that. Getting up became something less and less apealing. Living did as well. But that wasn't an option. Never could he even think about trying again. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know I've been gone for a really long time, but I went on vacation and missed some school so I've been catching up and have been super busy. I'm back now though and I'm going to try to maintain my regular weekly posting.

 Patrick's index finger hovered over the mouse on his laptop. He felt sort of pathetic. He never thought he'd be one to have to do this. It was the 21st century though. Wasn't everyone doing this? There's nothing to be ashamed of. Yeah. Nothing at all.

 Patrick filled in the last question on the website.  _What kind of partner are you looking for? Male, female, no preference._ _  
_

He thought about it for a minute. A month ago it would've been easy. Who was he kidding? A month ago he wouldn't even consider logging into a site like this. A month ago he would've been in bed with the man he was sure was the love of his life. There wouldn't have been any hesitation. Today would've marked three years. _Three_   _fucking years._ A sudden rush of anger surged through him as the memory of Pete creeped back into his life.  _Fuck you._ He imagined himself saying.  _None of this would be happening right now. I was only gone for two fucking weeks! God dammit!_

He sucked in air through his nose and closed his eyes. His hands tightened around the sleeves of his cardigan, trying to keep his cool. 

 Once his eyes slid open again the choice was simple. Maybe it was the anger, or the pain, or the need for vengeance surging through him that made him do what he did. Maybe he was just done with men hurting him all the time. But at that moment he knew what the right choice was. His finger slid over the mouse with ease and he moved it over the second option. It was time for a change of pace. All those years being hurt by heartless men were over. He clicked the submit button and waited, sipping at his coffee while his phone sprang to life with a call from Pete. There is was again; the fury. He wanted to grab his phone and throw it across the room so it could shatter into a million pieces and stop taunting him with his past. 

 But before he could even reach for the phone his computer notified him of a message.  He clicked on the red envelope in the middle of the screen and read the message.

  _Hey! My name is Elisa. Care to meet up sometime?_

Patrick quickly typed in a reply. 

  _Hey Elisa! I'm Patrick. I would love to see you. Would you like to meet up for coffee tomorrow?_

He pushed enter and paced while he waited for a reply. It felt like hours but just a few moments later his computer rang again. 

  _Yes! Is 7pm at the coffee place down main street okay for you?_

Patrick thought for a second before he began typing again.

  _Sounds great! I'll see you then._

One last message from Elisa rang in.

  _See you soon!_

Patrick closed the laptop and slumped down in his chair. He was almost out of clean clothes again. Going back to where he used to live with Pete was inevitable now since he had no nice clothes. All he had left to wear was a gray hoodie and some sweatpants he no way he was gonna let a girl as beautiful as Elisa see him in that for the first time. No, no matter how much it killed him tonight he had to go back to his old apartment. It smelled like feet in Brendon's apartment anyway.

 Patrick pulled on his hoodie and dirty jeans, grabbed the duffel from before and walked out the door. It wasn't freezing outside but it was chilly, making Patrick pick up the pace towards his destination.

 He was there quicker than he thought he would. It was like his feet were on auto-pilot. Just knew where to go while his mind was on something completely different: Elisa. 

 Her profile picture depicted her with high cheekbones, red lips, wild curly hair. She was even the perfect height for Patrick. No way he was going to mess this up. 

 When at the door of the apartment Patrick fished his key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and walked in. 

 He still wanted Pete, but how could he ever trust him again? He just hoped that while he was here Pete didn't try anything.

 "Who's there?" He heard Pete scream from the hallway.

 "It's just me. I need to get a few things then I'll be gone," Patrick heard Pete sigh. It was halfway a sigh of relief but also of disappointment.

 They met in the middle of the main room. 

 "Patrick, it's been two weeks. Please come home," Pete's eyes were dilated and his voice was inching on desperation again. It made Patrick want to gag. He never had any tolerance for Pete's episodes. Never. Now is no different. 

 "Have you been smoking?" His eyes narrowed.

 "Me? Never. I've just been driving myself crazy trying to win you baaaaack," Pete drooped forward on the last word, letting Patrick catch a whiff of whatever alcohol he'd been drinking. 

 "Pete? Who are you talking to?" A voice came from inside their old room and progressively got clearer as it came closer.

  _Gerard fucking Way._

He was void of any clothing besides his boxers. His eyes were also dilated and he wreaked of alcohol and weed. Tears sprang into his eyes. The love of his life was naked in a room, drunk and high, with his old rapist. No  _fucking_ way this was his life. Patrick locked his eyes with Pete and, without thinking, pushed him at full force. Then again, and again, and again, until he was up the wall. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks or stop his whole body from shaking with rage, but he _could_ leave a mark. Once he sobered up and realized what he'd done he'll be begging for forgiveness all over again, but Patrick had a plan. He was so  _done_ letting Pete do this to him. Letting  _Gerard_ interfere with his life. This was over. He packed up the rest of his clothes and left the apartment with Pete begging for his forgiveness the whole time, not even being fully aware of what he'd done yet.


End file.
